Losing Everything and Finding Yourself
by winter-willow
Summary: when you finally lose the last piece of your former life suddenly everything you believe in must be reevaluated, and once that's done, you find yourself. just read it
1. Chapter 1

Title: Losing Everything and Finding Yourself

Author:Willow

Genre: General/Romance

Type: Movie/TV Show

Show: Grey's Anatamy

Rating: M (Mature-for language, violence and sexual situations)

Characters: All

Pairings: Derek/Meredith; Derek/Addison; Addison/Mark; Mark/Meredith; Burke/Christina; Alex/Izzy; Izzy/George (Almost everyone in the show will go through emotional issues so the pairings are almost infinite)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot lines that weasel their way in through my mind and the paper I originally wrote this on.

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Losing Everything and Finding Yourself

Chapter 1. Nothing Really Matters

December 13, 2005

11:15 pm

Addison

I don't know what to make of what Derek just said. He loves her? But he chose me. I don't understand. I thought he loved me. I thought that was why he chose me. I thought that was why we were trying to work this out, why we were back together, because he loved me. But if he loves her then why did he choose me? Obligation of our marriage vows? That would be stupid.

But as I sneak a glance at Derek and at his features wreathed in pain and sorrow I realize that that is Derek. I sigh and close my eyes because I know it now. He loves her. He was just making it work with me because of our vows. He was doing it out of obligation. A sense of honor. That is so like Derek. To do something just because it is the 'right' thing to do. Oh god what am I doing?

I clear my throat as I stand up. His eyes are on me. His blue eyes that are no longer warm and loving, or even pleading to just leave him alone. No...they are just empty. He's looking at me and there is nothing in his eyes. It's like he's dead. Oh god, I've done this to him.

I realize I've been standing for awhile now without moving or saying anything. I've even caught the attention of the bartender. "I have to go. We can pick out gifts another time." I pick up my purse and grab my coat off the back of the chair.

"Addison please." his voice trails behind me as I flee the bar.

I should have known better. I should have realized when he was so reluctant to do anything together even after he'd 'chosen' me. I mean, my god, could I have been more oblivious to what was so obvious? He'd waited over two months to do anything but give me an occasional kiss and even then he didn't act like he was happy about it.

I blink back tears furiously as I find my way to my car. I shouldn't drive. I really shouldn't. I've had at least two glasses of wine that I can remember and I know that if I am pulled over and given a sobriety test I won't pass. In fact I will probably fail with flying colors. But as I insert the keys into the ignition I really can't say that I care.

Even as minutes later I skid on the icy road, as I am heading back to the hospital to clear my head, and cross into the opposing lane to find headlights coming right at me with no time to really react I don't care. All I can think is that nothing really mattered. He didn't love me, he never really had. I was just an obligation.

I close my eyes and exhale as the sound of metal meeting metal fills the air. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

December 13, 2005

12 am (midnight)

Derek

Sirens have been blazing in the not-so-far-off distance for the past half hour of so. But it doesn't really matter to me. Unless my pager goes off I know that no one has been so seriously hurt as if to need my help or they were beyond my help from the start.

I take another gulp of scotch for the glass in front of me and fiddle with the three beer nuts left in the bowl on the table. I hadn't meant to hurt her. I really hadn't. But then again no one ever really means to hurt someone. It just happens.

I get angry for a moment and gulp down the rest of my drink in one swallow. I mean, how was I supposed to know that she hadn't realized after all this time that Meredith wasn't just revenge or some stupid fling? Couldn't she have figured it out form the therapy sessions and how I avoided questions about what Meredith and I had done together and how we met? I mean, come on, it's been a little over two months.

Glancing around the bar I signal to Joe to fill up my glass. I bet Addison didn't realize that this bar was the bar I had mentioned meeting Meredith at during one of our first therapy sessions. She wouldn't have stepped one foot inside if she'd known. She would have pitched a fit if I'd even suggested it.

"Beep. Beep."

I lean over and retrieve my pager from the pocket of my coat where it is going off. It's the hospital. The accident must have been bad. Dammit. I want to get drunk. Completely sotted. That's honestly when I sometimes do my best thinking. At least when it comes to emotional issues or relationships. Except when I was with Meredith. I never needed to drink when I was with her. Dammit. I need to stop doing that, thinking about her. I love her, yes, but I chose Addison. And I have to do the right thing by her. No matter what.

My beeper goes off again and I decide to just head in rather than call. Besides if Addison went back to the trailer I don't want to be there when she decides it is time to talk. I'd much rather be in the operating room.

I pull on my coat and pass a couple of twenties to Joe. They'll probably pay up my shots for the past two days or so. I head out to my car trudging through the light sleet and snow mixture that is raining down and covering the ground. I had better be careful driving. It would be easy to slide in this. I start to drive towards the hospital when I notice the flashing lights are on the road between the hospital and the bar and the cops had both lanes blocked off. I was going to have to drive on the side of the road to get around the accident.

As I pull alongside the accident and show my work identification badge to the police officer I notice how bad the wreck really is. A head-on collision the cop states. Apparently one of the cars heading to the hospital skidded on the ice and slammed straight into a car carrying three people coming from the hospital. The police officer said that all the people involved had been transported to the hospital already after having been cut out of the car except for the driver who had skidded on the ice and who was unharmed and would be taken to the station for a blood alcohol test and a round of questioning.

I begin driving again as my pager resumes its beeping. No doubt one of those three hit needs my help. As I pull clear of the wreck the person being placed in the back of the cop car catches my attention. It's a woman wearing a black faux fur coat like the one I bought for Addison three Christmas's ago. But it doesn't matter and I drive on knowing that someone needs my help because of that woman's thoughtless actions.

December 13, 2005

ll:10 pm

Meredith

It was the smiles. That's what it was. It didn't fix it but it made it better. The smiles on those kid's faces made the holidays bearable. At least for a few hours.

I even laugh as the puppy Izzy and I picked out from the local pound chases George around the parking lot as we head to the car. Isobel and I share a smile as we proceed to chase after them and grab the leash before the puppy manages to playfully bite the seat of George's pants like he so clearly had in mind.

I still can't figure out whose idea it was to bring the dog to the hospital for the kids on the surgical ward to play with. It think it was Izzy's after all she is the happy holidays one. I just remember laying under the tree looking at all the blinking twinkling little lights when suddenly we were heading out the door, Izzy restraining the dog from scaring George too much.

The kids had been so happy to see a live dog that their little faces had lit up and laughter had been heard in a room that was usually noted for its silence. Bailey and Webber had come running only to smile and then leave again as their pagers went off. It had been fun but even on the holidays and for such a special guest there were rules and we were asked to leave after about an hour or so.

Which brought us to where we are now. In the parking lot slipping around on the slushy ice while trying to get a dog back in the car so we could go back home and get a few hours of sleep before our shift the next morning.

I slide into the driver's seat and slip the key in the ignition and quickly turn on the heater and defroster while Izzy and George try to convince the pup to get up into the car. Finally in desperation George climbs into the backseat and Izzy laughs as she quickly closes the door behind the puppy who is now licking every inch of George's face that it can reach.

"Yuck! Why am I in the back with the dog?" George complains to me and Izzy as I slip the car into reverse and begin to back up.

"Because" Izzy retorts, "You are a man and men are like dogs. I thought the two of you would enjoy each other's company."

"Not everyone is like Alex, Izzy." George says quietly as he gets the dog under control.

I laugh, "Oh of course not George. Some are like Dr. Shepherd." Sarcasm is just dripping from my voice as I shift into first gear and then second. Everyone is quiet as we exit the parking lot.

I almost wish I hadn't said it. Not because it isn't true but because it still hurts. Just saying his name aloud hurts. Why did it still have to hurt? He chose her not me. He made his choice and I got over it. Didn't I?

I drive carefully, slowly on the freshly iced over roads lost in my thoughts. He's trying to make a second go of it with her. With Addison. With his wife. How differently this could all be right now if only I hadn't turned him away that night at his trailer after he told me everything. If only I had listened with my heart and not my pride. Maybe we would have gotten back together. Maybe we would be together and she wouldn't be here to torment me. I know she's not doing it on purpose but she is tormenting me. Every time I see them together it rips my heart open anew.

Well that answers that doesn't it? I guess I am not as over him as I thought I was.

That's weird. Those lights look like they're coming straight for us. Oh god! Their car skid!

"Mer! Look out!"

Izzy's scream is resounding in my head as the other car finishes crossing into our lane. There's no time to brake, to turn or do anything. The car crashes into us and all I can think of is that it really doesn't matter. Not anymore.

December 13, 2005

11 pm

Mark

What am I doing? Why am I even on this plane? What was I thinking coming here I wonder as I pick up my luggage at the baggage claim. I should have just stayed in New York. I don't even know why I came.

It's really got to be one of two choices. Either I came to attempt to get Derek's friendship back or I'm here to win Addy back. It has nothing to do with the case that I was referred on. Oh god what am I doing?

Walking out of the airport I realize Seattle really isn't all that different from Manhatten. Sure you can see more trees and land and it's not all buildings but it's the same dismal weather in both cities. Slushy, icy, snowy winter weathers. I never got used to it like Addy said I would and I definitely never liked it the way Derek said I eventually would. I hate the cold.

It was one of the few things that Derek and I didn't have in common but Addy and I did. We both hated cold weather. Present tense actually we both hate cold weather.

I hail a cab and smile as I remember how three years ago Derek had given Addy a black faux fur coat and I gave her a matching muff and hat. She had hugged me and kissed him claiming to be equally delighted.

After informing the cab driver to take me to a hotel, and then wait for me and then take me to Seattle Grace Hospital after I came back out, I leaned back trying to get comfortable on the seat.

It's time to make that decision. Now or never. Which will it be? Derek or Addy? My best friend or the woman whose passion had matched mine for awhile? Derek. I choose Derek. Women I can get by the dozens but Derek is my best friend and that is hard to come by. I mean we've been friends since middle school. We went through college together. It's too much to throw away because of a stupid red-head.

As long as he hasn't hurt her. If he's hurt her then well I'll just have to hurt him. Just because I want to patch things up with him doesn't mean I haven't forgiven him for being so distant and cold to her. I love her. But since she came here after him it is pretty obvious she doesn't want me. And I can be cool with that. I can stand by and watch them together as long as he doesn't hurt her again.

The cabbie waits for me outside the hotel as I check in and have my baggage sent up to my room. I go back outside and almost slip in the three steps it takes to reach the car door. God I hate the snow.

We head towards the hospital and I think about the look on Derek's face when he found me and Addy. I can forgive him and let go of her as long as he hasn't hurt her.

If he has...all bets are off.

It's just past midnight as my driver slows down to go around the remains of an earlier wreck. Frowning I stare at one of the crunched cars being towed away wondering at the nagging thought at the back of my mind. Where have I seen that car before? As we drive completely past I notice the gold and silver mardi-gras beads hanging down from the review mirror. I know those beads. I gave the gold strand to Addy two years ago when we were all in New Orleans for the holiday. Oh god. Addy was in the wreck!

My heart leaps into my chest and my stomach performs backflips as the cab pulls up to the hospital. Please dear god let her be okay!

I race to the nurses desk after throwing some money at the cabbie and ask about the people involved in the wreck. She calmly tells me that the two women who were brought in are upstairs and the gentleman had already been looked at and discharged. He'd followed the two women upstairs.

Nodding I yelled my thanks back to her as I run towards the elevator. Pressing the button that would take me to the surgical floor the doors close just as a man comes racing in the entrance heading for the stairs.

Let her be okay. As long as she's okay everything with be fine. Because if she's not okay then nothing will matter. Nothing.

Continued in Chapter 2 - Too Close


	2. Chapter 2

**Losing Everything and Finding Yourself**

Chapter 2. Too Close

December 14, 2005

12:01 am

Miranda Bailey

The call came in thirty minutes ago. A wreck not too far from the hospital. Two cars. Crunched up bad. The driver that caused the accident was unhurt. But they were having to cut the occupants of the other car free before loading them into the ambulance. Only two of them were conscious.

I wait at the entrance to the emergency room with the chief. We had both ordered an intern still on duty to page both Burke and Shepherd since they had already gone home for the day. After all you never know what kind of injuries a car wreck victim will have. And with one of them being unconscious it was necessary that we all be ready for anything. Especially when the wreck is so awful that they have to cut the car apart to get the people out.

There's a restless thump in my belly and I rub the top of my stomach to help relax the baby. He always gets active when I am anxious.

I smother a smile with a mouth creased by worry lines as I think of a few of my interns. Earlier in the day Grey and O'Malley had to help me in the operating room when I was nauseous. Frowning I look at the clock. They would have been on the way home with Stevens and the dog around the time the wreck happened. An uneasy feeling swept over me. I walk away from Richard and head to the nurses station where they had taken the call. She puts up a hand even before I open my mouth to say anything.

"They just radioed in." There is an exasperated tone to her voice as if she is irritated with me for even coming over to the desk. Well that just won't do.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask." I say in the most condescending tone I can muster up. "I need you to radio back and ask them if there was a dog in the car with the victims they are sending."

She looks at me first with shame I suppose for being rude and then confuzed as I tell her what she needs to ask of the emergency technicions.

"Why do you need to know if there's a dog?"

I look at her awash with wonderment at this person who was so impertinent. "Just do as I ask please."

"Fine." She radios in the question and even before the staticy answer arrives I know what it will be. I walk away from the desk leaving the woman in openmouthed shock and go back to stand next to Richard.

"Prepare yourself Chief." I say as we see the lights of the ambulance coming from the distance.

"It's just a car wreck Miranda. Why would I need to prepare myself? We deal with car wrecks every day." he asks with a questioning gaze pointed in my direction.

I answer without really answering him. "There was a dog in the car with the three we are about to recieve."

He looks at me astonished and then worry clouds over his face. He understands. He knows who is coming in the ambulances. He knows what might happen.

This is why we are supposed to stay professional. All business at work. You should never let your emotions get the better of you. Don't get involved. But all I can think about is how attatched I have become to them. How I can anticipate their moods and reactions to a case before they even see the chart.

If I had stayed professional then I wouldn't know how to do that. If I had stayed professional I wouldn't have this helpless feeling in my gut right now. But I didn't. Dammit. I didn't stay proffessional.

The doors slide open and the EMTs bring in the first patient. As they sound off on the vitals and we race to the elevator I feel tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

Her hair is matted with blood. A tear slips down my cheek. The nurses look at me in astonishment as we pass their desk. The Nazi crying. I mutter something about pregnancy hormones which seems to pacify them but I know it isn't true. It's just that I had gotten so close to them.

The doors to the elevator slide shut and as we head upstairs I close my eyes and admit the truth to myself. I didn't just get close. I got too close.

December 12, 2005

12:15 am

Richard Webber

I watch as Dr. Bailey, the Nazi, disappears with the first patient. It was shocking to me. In all my years as chief, hell in all my years working at this hospital, I can not remember a year with this many tragidies occuring to the staff. And I don't remember a single one that was bad enough to make the Nazi break her composure.

Miranda has always been in control of herself. Whether dealing with new interns, old repeat patients or her new family issues, I had never seen her composure falter. Until today.

The emergency glass doors slide open and the EMTs are bringing in the next patient. But I don't step forward. This one isn't surgical. The most he has is a broken wrist and some gashes that need sutures.

That's it, I tell myself as I avoid his gaze and questions as he is wheeled away into an empty room, don't look. Don't lose focus. They are patients. It doesn't matter if you know them and understand how they are feeling. You need to focus. He doesn't need your help. By all surgical standards he is fine. You need to concentrate. You need to be ready. The other one needs you.

The glass doors slide open again and I pace alongside the stretcher as a group we head towards the elevator. I don't spare a glance towards the woman until all the stats have been relayed.

Her eyes are open. She's awake. She knows just how slim her chances are. She tries to speak. I place a hand over her mouth and shake my head. She needs to conserve her energy as much as she can.

The beeps of the machines grow further apart as the elevator hits the surgical floor. Her eyes slide closed as the doors open and suddenly one long beep is heard and an alarm goes off on the machine.

I fight the feeling of worthlessness that swamps me as the nurse begins CPR and I notice the quick shallow breaths that I had begun tot take as we head in the direction of the waiting operating room. I acknowledge to myself the reason for my anxiety. I got too close. Much too close.

December 12, 2005

12:30 am

Addison Shepherd

The chair is hard and uncomfortable. Then again it is supposed to be that way. It is an interrogation room after all. I've been here for over half and hour now. No one has come in yet. I wish they would. Just get it over with and then let me go. The people in the other car couldn't have been hurt badly. I mean, come on, I don't even have a scratch on me.

Why is this taking so long? Aren't I supposed to get a phone call? I need to call Derek. He can get me out of this. He may not love me right now but he'll get me out of this. He'll fix it. And then I will spend the rest of my life trying to get him to love me again.

The doors across the tiny windowless room finally open and two men in suits walk through. What is going on here? Why are they acting like someone died? Oh God! Did someone die? They take the seats across from me and I feel slightly nauseous as I look at their somber expressions. We sit there for what seems like hours but I suppose it's really only a few minutes until finally one of them speaks.

"For right now, Ms. Shepherd, you are only facing charges on driving under the influence, reckless endangerment and causing a vehicular accident. But there may be more charges added after we recieve a call from the hospital updating the condition of the driver and passengers of the other car."

My mouth is hanging open in shock and I know I must look slightly unhinged to the two suits. The other people were taken to the hospital! Oh God! I hurt someone. More than one. Oh God what if I hurt a family? What if someone dies because of me? I'm a doctor. I'm supposed to fix people that get in accidents. Not cause people to die from an accident that I created.

I realize the other suit had asked me something and I ask him to repeat his question. A phone call. He wants to know if I want to call someone to come pay my bail. I ask him how much my bail is and stare at him when he tells me the number. $500,000.00. That's a large bail for the charges against me I mutter.

"Yeah, well, here in Seattle we take it kinda personal when three young people are injured due to a drunk driver. Especially when, according to the EMTs, two of them probably won't make it." the suit replies a bit harshly.

I stare off into space. Two of them might not make it. Oh god, what have I done? I close my eyes and take deep breaths to quell the nausea that had come with the thought that I had most likely killed someone.

The suit is talking to me again. Asking questions. So many questions.

"So, Ms. Shepherd. Why are you here in Seattle?"

"I work here."

"Then why does your driver's license say New York on it?"

"I moved here from New York a few months ago. I hadn't decided whether I was going to say or not so I hadn't changed my license yet. Besides I don't really have a permanent address yet. I live in between a hotel and the trailer my husband lives in."

"You and your husband live separately?"

"Yes, we've been having problems. That's why he left New York and came here."

"What kind of problems?"

"That's none of your business officer."

How in the wourld does my personal life relate to this I wonder. It shouldn't matter at all. I think about the fact that I am in an interrogation room and wonder why I don't have an attorney present. Aren't I supposed to have an attorney present? I turn my gaze to the suit to ask him about it when his phone rings.

He gets up from his chair and walks to a corner of the room talking queitly into his cellphone. His partner decides to take up the questioning business and I forget about my earlier question.

"So where do you work here in Seattle?"

"At the hospital. Seattle Grace."

By now the other suit has closed his cellphone back up and walked back across the room towards us.

"Really?" he asks, " In what field and capacity?"

"I'm an neonatal surgeon."

He smiles cynically. "Really?"

I nod.

"Well then, " he says as he motions to his partner that it is time for them to leave. "I'm sure you will be certifiably upset to know that the three people you hit are interns on the surgical ward. Promising kids I was just told. Too bad two of them probably won't make it out of their surgeries alive."

My eyesight falters as they exit the room and shut the door. Oh god. I only know of one set of three interns that almost always drive to and from work together. Oh god. If I've killed her, if I'm right, if she has been harmed...he'll never forgive me.

I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts. Surely other interns drive together to work. Surely it is not the three I think it is. But it's really too close to tell. Too close a coincidence. Too damn close.

December 14, 2005

12:35 am

Derek Shepherd

I stare at the names on the operating board not believing. I grab a nurse by the arm.

"Are these names correct?"

She nods. Oh god oh god oh god. The names stare glaringly at me from the board. Where they are written boldly in black dry erase marker. I want to erase them. Pretend it never happened. Pretend they aren't the ones that were in the accident and needed surgery.

My chest tightens uncontrollably as I read the first name again. Oh god how could this have happened? She'd already gone home. Hours ago. I'd watched her walk to her car. No this is a mistake. Just one huge mistake. She is at home eating brownies and drinking tequilla and watching tapes of surgeries on the television with her roommates. No way this was really happening.

I sit down heavily on a chair. Oh god. How can I do this? How can I operate on her? How can I put her life in my hands? One wrong choice. One slip of the scapel and I could alter her personality and life forever. Or I could do worse. I could kill her.

I stand up and go in search of the chief. I can't do it. He can't make me do it. He'll just have to call in someone else and she will just have to hold on until they get here. Anyone else. Just not me. That way I will be able to blame someone other than myself if the worst should happen.

I find Richard scrubbing in at OR 2. I tell him I can't do it. I can't operate on her. He stares at me in shock.

"You have to Derek. I realize that it is hard for you but there is no one else. She needs the operation. What would you have me do?"

"Call someone in. Anyone."

"There's only one person as good as you Derek and you know it. Do you want me to call him down?"

I stare at him shell-shocked. He could not possibly mean who I think he means. He could not honestly think that I would agree to bring down that bastard to operate on her. I'd brave the knife myself first. A voice comes from behind me and for a moment I feel like I must be hallucinating.

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about me would you?"

He is not here. Not here. I turn around. He is here. Dammit. What the hell is he doing here? I look at Richard and for some odd reason he doesn't look suprised to see my ex-best friend standing here.

"I thought you weren't coming in until tomorrow. Mr. Coleman's not even scheduled until Friday."

I am not even the tiniest bit suprised at this turn of events. After all, that's how he got Addison down here. A case that needed her 'so-called expertise'. I'm so not suprised.

"So what do you have? I saw the wreck coming in."

"We have an abdominal surgery needed but I am covering that. The other surgery from the wreck is one of our interns also. She has internal injuries and there is glass imbedded in her scalp and skull. There are other non-sugical issues but the glass is the priority. Her heart stopped coming up in the elevator and has failed twice since. The operation has to happen soon. Shepherd was just telling me that he couldn't perform the surgery."

"Well, if Derek is not up to it I would be happy to help out."

"No!" I practically shout the word. I mean what is Richard thinking about offering the surgery to him. He could kill her with one mistake.

"No." Richard says turning to me. "You were right Derek. You are too emotionally involved to do this surgery. Mark'll have to do it."

I swear under my breath. I can't stand the thought of him being near her. Let alone touching her. If he damages her I'll kill him.

Mark clears his throat. "Excuse me, but Derek why aren't you with Addy?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Her car was one of those involved in the accident." He says looking at me, "I figured she was brought here."

I stare at him lost in thought. The woman in the back of the police car was Addison. She caused the wreck. She was the one who almost killed Isobel and ... Meredith. Oh god. If Meredith dies it will be all my fault. If I had never come to Seattle then Addison would have never come and if she had never come then Meredith wouldn't be lying on that table dying. But then again, if Addison hadn't cheated on me I would never have come to Seattle. So either way it is her fault.

"Derek?"

Richard's voice snaps me back to the present and I look towards the room where Meredith lay dying.

"If she was in the wreck and isn't here then she doesn't need my help Mark. So how about you stop worrying about where my wife is."

I walk off leaving Mark with Richard and find myself suddenly standing in the room where Meredith is being prepared for her surgery. Her friend George is there watching as the nurse shaves part of Meredith's hair off her scalp near her left temple. George is pale as a ghost. His arm is in a cast. Belatedly I realize he must have been in the accident too.

He looks up at me and then back down at her. He knows her chances are slim. So do I. So we both stand there for God knows how long watching her until one of the nurses says that they are done and are ready to move her to the operating room.

George squeezes her hand, the one part of her that seems untouched by the accident, and walks out of the room mumbling something about going to check on Izzy now.

I stand there. Not knowing what to do. It sounds cliche but I know that if she dies a large part of me will die with her. So this could be my last moment with her. What do I say? I take an unsteady breath. There really is only one thing to say.

"Meredith. Hey, it's me, Derek. I um, want to tell you something. Earlier you asked me what was wrong and I said it was just the holidays, I lied."

I sit down on a chair beside the bed and take another shaky breath. "The truth was in a way the holidays, but not really. It was you, and Addison. I chose her but I love you. The holidays make me want to be with the people I love and that's not Addison in my hear. It's you. So I'm gonna fix this and I hope you wake up to see it but even if you don't I believe that you can hear me and I want you to know that I'm going to fix this. I can't live my life out of a sense of obligation anymore. I need you Meredith. So please, come back to me."

My voice catches on a sob and I stand up, bend over the bed, kiss her lightly on the forehead stroking the bloody hair away from her face.

I turn and leave the room abruptly thanking the nurse silently for pretnending to be deaf blind and dumb. As I walk down the hall I pause. Something in me is telling me that Meredith wasn't the only one to hear my confession and that the consequences would be harsh. I pivot on my left foot and look around. No one's there. Good. But I still can't shake the feeling as I walk off to check the surgical board to see how Izzy's surgery is going. I have to do something to keep myself from going stir crazy.

Mark walks by me as I'm checking the board. My hands clench and unclench. I hate him. It's a good thing he didn't hear me talking to Meredith a few minutes ago. I don't want him getting any ideas in his head like trying to tae her from me in order to hurt me again. I stop reading the board and glance at him walking away towards the operating room. I gauge the rate of spped he's walking and look back towards Meredith's room.

No, no, he couldn't have overheard. He is walking too fast to have overheard.

I spy George in the waiting room pacing nervously. I decide to join him, we both might as well keep away from everyone else so we don't make them skittish or angry with our anxiety. After all, misery loves company, right?

We sit down to a game of chess but my mind keeps straying back to Mark and the direction he had been walking from. It was a close chance that he overheard at least part of what I said. I glance down at the board where George has just captured my queen. Too close.

Continued in Chapter 3. Unexpected


	3. Chapter 3

please remember i own nothing and as always with my stories you may need to have a box of tissue nearby.

Losing Everything and Finding Yourself

Chapter 3. Doesn't Look Good

December 14, 2005

8:10 pm

Preston Burke

I stare at the water rushing from the spout as it washes the traces of blood off my wrists and hands. Richard stands beside me at the other sink doing the same. It had been a long surgery. A long complicated surgery. Stevens had only needed an abdominal surgery at first but then her heart failed in the middle of Richard's work and I was called in to find out why. Working on my girlfriend's friend hadn't made the surgery go any easier.

Richard pats me on the shoulder and congratulates me on a job well done as we head to the waiting room. According to the nurse the traffic cop is still there waiting for a report and the family member they had gotten ahold of was there also. We enter the room and the police officer stands up along with O'Malley and Shepherd, whom I am not surprised to see, and as Christina runs up beside me bombarding me with qustions I notice the person who must be the family member.

He is sitting away from everyone else in the room and looking at him I can not understand how this man had created anything half as beautiful as Stevens. In fact, he didn't look anything like Stevens. He was dark, short and grimy with a shrewd look in his eyes and a shifty stance. I immediately try to focus my mind to stop thinking so rudely about the man. He can't be that bad, after all, if he created a woman so full of life and light.

"So, did the bitch die yet?"

Scratch everything I just thought. This man has to be the foulest, rudest person I have ever met in my entire life. And I find Christina's attitude pleasent and charming to be around. So that is saying a LOT.

"Excuse me?" I say.

Richard is obviously as incensed as I am and he's letting it show as he speaks to the man. "Your daughter just got out of a major surgery related to a bad car crash and you have the audacity to use foul language and a question such as that?"

The man doesn't even bother to wipe the disgusting look off his face as he approaches the chief and stands toe to toe with him to reply. "She's not my daughter. The brat belongs to my wife."

"Then where is your wife?" The chief asks.

He shifts around uneasily on his feet, "She weren't feelin' well."

The police officer clears his throat quickly before the situation gets out of hand. O'Malley looks murderous. Christina looks incredulous and Shepherd is apparently lost and confuzed. In fact he looks like they haven't gotten any word back on Grey yet. She should have been out of the operating room hours ago. My forehead creases as I wonder about what might be going on in her surgery.

"Beep. Beep."

I look down at my pager where it is going off. It's the operating room. Grey's surgery. Dammit. I race from the room leaving five sunned faces and one insolent one in my wake. Before I get all the way down the hall I hear the man's oily voice once more.

"If she dies we ain't payin' her debt or bills."

My God, that man is an ass. As I enter the operating room I see a nurse attempting to restart the young woman's heart. I ask about conditions. They say it is the second time the heart has failed during surgery. Something must be causing a bleedout. I grab one of the scans they did of her chest and fume angrily. There's a shard of one of her rib bones caught between the left and right atriums of her heart. Why didn't they see it earlier?

As I pick up the scapel to cut her open I feel my own chest tighten. Christina is going to kill me if I don't fix her friend. But it doesn't look good. Not good at all.

December 14, 2005

9:30 pm

Richard Webber

The police officer left about ten minutes ago for shift change. The new officer hasn't arrived yet and you can almost feel the tension in the room. Derek keeps sending me dirty looks. I imagine he's angry with me for bringing Mark down here. I don't blame him. But unfortunately it wasn't a personal decision; it was a business desicion. Or at least that is what I will say to everyone until my dying breath. When I was made chief I promised the board I was going to make this hospital the finest in the nation. That means having the finest doctors at my disposal. It is not my fault that he happens to be one of the best as well as Mark and Addison.

I smile slightly as Derek shoots me another dirty look. So maybe it wasn't all business. I guess I just remember how they were when they were interning under me. So much in love. All three of them. Two best friends both in love withthe girl. The girl chose Derek. I'm not sure Addison ever realized exactly how much Mark loved her. Derek was oblivious. That much I know for sure.

I just want the best for the hospital and if that happens to mean having old friends have to work through some issues then by god that's what they will have to do. But that's not the truth really. I only meant to send for Derek at first. I knew he was looking for a new place to work and I counted myself lucky. After he'd been here a few weeks he had changed from the sullen man he had been when he'd arrived to a vibrant, happy person that he'd been when I first met him. But it was the way he refused to talk about Addison or Mark that made me think about calling one of them here to Seattle to talk with him. When I found out he was seeing an intern that was the final straw.

It had nothing to do with the fact that the intern in question was Ellis's daughter. Well, maybe a little. After all, I am Meredith's godfather.

Father. Meredith. Thatcher.

I look up at Derek and O'Malley. "Did anyone think to call Thatcher?"

They stare at me blankly. Both swamped in their own grief. I stand up and head towards the door just as Miranda comes in.

"Where are you going Chief?" she asks.

"No one thought to call Meredith's father. I'm going to my office to give Adele a call and ask her to call Thatcher and see if he can come up here." I reply over my shoulder as I head down the hall.

I can hear her muttering as she enters the waiting room where the two lovesick men are waiting. The Nazi's on the warpath. It doesn't look good for them. Not at all.

December 14, 2005

10:15 pm

Mark

I collapse onto a bench after the surgery. Dear God my back hurts. Almost an eighteen hour surgery. I need a massage. I am way too tense. I contemplate just going back to the hotel and leaving the synopsis to one of the odd interns that was helping with the surgery. But I am a professional. And that is not what professionals do. We explain to the family and friends everything that happens during the surgery and what the patients chance of success are. Because we are professionals.

I stand up, slowly stretching and arching my spine away from the wall hoping my back will pop and I won't feel like I'm eighty years old anymore. I'm not old, well not that old. I shouldn't feel this old. I walk slowly to the door, halfway surprised that my joints aren't making an audible creaking sound with every step as they manage to work under protest.

I pause as the curly haired aisian intern crosses in front of me pushing the bed carrying the patient to her room without even saying 'excuse me'. Damn, she's bitchy. She glances back at me and gives me a dirty look as if the fact that the girl on the table was my fault. As if she knew I had dirty hands. As if she knew I wasn't wanted here and why. But she couldn't possibly. Derek would never want his subordinates to know his wife cuckholded him with his best friend and Addy would never want anyone to know that she was less than perfect for a whild. So there is no way that cocky little piece of aisian shit knows anything.

I walk down the hall again heading towards the waiting room to tell the people close to the young woman that the surgery was complete and now it is basically up to her. I hate this part. I hate having to tell people that their loved one is most likely going to die even though the surgery was successful. Hopefully the family will be understanding.

Something on the chart in my hands makes me pause and reflect a bit. Something about the girl's name. I glance back down at the chart. Grey. Meredith Grey. I definitely don't know her so why on earth do I feel like I am forgetting something? Something that would make explaining the situation a lot easier. Better. Dammit, why can't I think of it? Why is it eluding me?

I shake my head as I enter the waiting room. There are less people than I expected. The police officer isn't even present. In fact, there are only three people. A young man with his arm in a sling. Probably involved in the accident also. A woman in scrubs who is obviously pregnant and a member of the hospital personnel. In fact, I realize as I look closer at her, she's one of the surgical residents who helped with the woman's abdominal surgery over ten hours ago. The other members of the surgical staff call her 'The Nazi'. Strange nickname that. The last person in the room is one that I do not believe should be here. I realize the girl is one of the interns and that she showed a lot of promise but Derek really should be with Addison. She probably needs him right now. After all, it is not in her nature to hurt people. She avoids it at all costs. That's why she became a doctor. So she could help people who have been hurt feel better. She needs him right now. So why is he here? Why isn't he comforting her?

I step forward the last bit into the room. The resident, The Nazi, looks up at me. As do the young man and Derek.

"Has her family been notified of the accident?" I ask before offering any information on how the surgery went.

The young man stands up quickly, knocking over the chess game he and Derek had been playing to idle away time. "How is she? Tell me! Will Meredith..." his voice breaks on a suppressed sob. "Will she be okay?"

I look over to Derek and the Nazi and ask my question again. "Has the family been notified?"

Derek just looks at me like I am stupid until the sound of his cell phone going off shakes him out of it. He picks it up off the end table, looks at the number and sits it back down on the table with a definitive thud.

The Nazi, Miranda Bailey, however does answer my question this time around. "Her father is flying in from Boston tomorrow and her mother lives in a home here in Seattle and has been informed. So you better get on with it New York and tell us what happened during surgery after I left and how decent her chances are."

"Normally the results aren't given to anyone but family." I say attempting to goad Derek into blurting out something that would explain why this woman was so important to him that he would wait on her results rather than go to Addy, his wife, who was obviously in deep shit.

Bailey walks up extremely close to me while Derek stares stonily. "I suggest you tell us because like her mother, Ellis Grey, looked on her fellow surgeons as her family, so does Meredith. So get on with it. Now!"

So now I understand why they all call her the Nazi. And I also realize why I recognize the patients name. Grey. Ellis Grey. The most reknowned female surgeon. She created the Grey method. She, my God, was married to Thatcher Grey. An equally good surgeon. through not as inventive. Meredith Grey was inbred. Not just inbred, hell, she is royally inbred. The kind of surgeon she could make! Now I understand the reason that everyone is so concerned. She's one of those jeweled interns that a hospital will woo to get and court to keep.

I turn back to the three doctors and begin the explanation of the circumstances during the surgery and the outlook for the next few days. The further into the explanation I get the angrier the two men seem to get. The injured intern looks at me as if promising to hit me if the final prognosis is what he thinks it is going to be. It doesn't look good. He's going to hit me. This doesn't look good at all.

December 14, 2005

10:30 p.m.

Miranda Bailey; 'The Nazi'

The prognosis wasn't good. Not good at all. I watch in astonishment as O'Malley, sweet tempered O'Malley, launches himself at the doctor who relayed the news.

"You stupid bastard! You messed her up! You probably killed her, you New York asshole!"

Pondering those words I look at Derek who, as the only male in the room and the highest ranking hospital official, should have been trying to pull O'Malley off the new doctor only to find him just standing there by the overturned chess board. Watching.

I notice Karev skulking past the room probably going to go sneak a glance at Steven's chart to reassure himself that she was okay.

"Karev! Get in here and break up this fight!"

Thankfully my condition hasn't affected my interns perpetual fear of me. Except Grey. She knows I've gone a bit soft. Grey. The other surgeon's words wash over me anew.

'Her heart stopped three times before surgery and twice during. We removed all the glass shards and repaired the damage there as well as the bone fragments from her third and fifth ribs. Three other ribs are fractured. One of the bone fragments from the third rib had punctured her left lung and we took care of that as well as the shard that was lodged between the left and right atriums of her heart. However there is a fracture of the left skull plate that is close to pinching a few blood vessels. We will have to watch her closely over the next couple of days to make sure that the plate heals correctly and doesn't cause another surgery to be needed. I am sure I don't need to tell you how slim her chances are. If her heart fails again...it might not start back up.'

Looking at O'Malley as Karev struggles to pull him off the out-of-town surgeon I sympathize with how he is feeling. After all, when it is all said and done, Meredith Grey is one of my favorites. So determined to be the best. Driven to make sure the past mistakes won't affect her work. I glance at Derek Shepherd. He's sitting down again and righting the chessboard and all it's pieces. I remember the way he'd been looking at the other surgeon and then O'Malley's angry words fly back to me. 'New York'. Ah, so this is Derek's ex-best friend and the man who helped drive him here after cheating with his wife. No wonder Derek isn't stopping O'Malley. But is it because of the man and his past with Derek and Addison or because the man was operating on Meredith Grey? However, before I can become completely entangled in my thoughts Karev's voice breaks the silence.

"Damn George! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"He's just upset." Derek says from across the room. "It's understandable and justifiable, I think." He says shooting a nasty look in the bleeding surgeon's direction.

"No Dr. Shepherd. This is beyond George upset. I've seen George upset. Up close and personal. He still always stutters over curse words even then and he always stops after he delivers one good punch." Karev looks up with a snide smile on his face. "Trust me, I, of all people, would know."

Something about Karev's words sting true and I look at O'Malley afresh. He had been taken straight to the emergency room. They said he'd only broken his arm which they had then placed in a cast with a swing. But what if he'd had another injury? A head injury.

"O'Malley." I speak sharply to get his attention. Thankfully he stops fooling around with Karev on the floor and turns to face me.

"What?"

"When they admitted you to the emergency room did they run any tests? Any MRIs?"

"No."

His surly tone makes me even more sure of what I think is wrong is wrong.

"How about questions about the accident? Did they ask if you were wearing your seatbelt? Whether you hit your head or not?"

"Why the hell should it matter?"

By now Derek is standing up looking at O'Malley as well. But before any of us can do anything O'Malley's eyes roll back in his head and he falls to the floor. Pain lances through my chest. It has been so long since the accident. And O'Mallley must have been bleeding out from his frontal lobe. It's been too long. Even if we get him into surgery right away it would be too close. He is too far gone. Too close to death. It doesn't look good for him. Poor O'Malley. Not good at all.

Continued in Chapter 4. My Fault


	4. Chapter 4

**Losing Everything and Finding Yourself**

Chapter 4 - My Fault

December 19th, 2005

4:30 p.m.

Addison Shepherd

I'm out. Out on bail. Not to leave the state or city but at least I'm out. I wonder why it took so long for Derek to pay my bail. I mean, I know I did something stupid and wrong and that someone died because of it but still, I'm his wife. Through sickness and in health, the good times and the bad. So why did it take him so long? I take a cab up to the hospital and ask the nurse on duty to page him.

"I'm sorry Dr. Shepherd but the other Dr. Shepherd has left already. Most of the surgical staff is gone. The funeral for the intern who died in the crash is today. Pretty much everyone went to pay their respects. Perhaps you should look for him there."

I nod, my face blank. Obviously the news of my being the other driver hasn't quite reached the gossip mill. Odd and surprising since I was pretty sure that Derek would have told the Chief and then the Chief would tell Burke and Bailey and Burke would have told Christina and I am pretty sure that she would waste no time informing everyone that 'Satan' was the one who drove drunk straight into the woman whom her husband loved along with said woman's two best friends and roommates.

I walk away to the on-call room that Derek and I share occasionally and start to gather up my meager belongings. I might as well get it done now since I won't be working here anymore. Richard will revoke my tenure for this and besides, there is no way he would force Stevens and Grey to work with me after what I have done.

I stuff my scrubs in the small duffel bag and let the tears fall freely. I killed someone. The most innocent person I have ever met and I killed him. And Stevens is speech impaired after being in a coma for two days. Then there is Grey. Multiple surgeries. Long recovery time. Strong possibilities of complications occurring later. All sorts of charges are going to be filed against me. God help me if the cops think I ran into their car on purpose because of Derek and Meredith.

I stand up and take a deep breath. I need to see Derek. Know that he doesn't blame me. Hate me. I smile and bite my lip as I climb into the back of the waiting cab. Derek can't hate me. He paid my bail. He'll help me get through this. I know he will. If for no other reason than it is part of the obligation of the marriage vows.

The driver gets me to my destination quicker than expected. The service is still going on. Quietly I slip into a row at the back and bide my time trying extremely hard to look anywhere and everywhere except for at the casket. Finally it was over. The family walked out first. I avoid their gaze and shrink further down into the bench. Then various relatives and friends go by me. I stand up as the hospital staff and Derek approach.

Derek looks at me but doesn't say a word as he starts to walk past me towards the double doors that lead to the hall where everyone is extending their condolences to the O'Malley family.

"Derek, wait."

"For what? We're through Addison."

I stare at him blankly as the other hospital members create a circle around us, trying to shield the family from what is happening.

"But why?"

He looks at me as if I have said something stupid. "This is not the time or the place Addison. You should know that."

I don't know what to do. I know that this isn't the best time but we're through? How did that happen? I mean, I know he's not completely in love with me anymore but he does love me. I am his wife dammit. I deserve an explanation. I gently touch the edge of his shirt sleeve.

"Derek, please. I need to know why."

"Why? Why. You need to know why?" His voice lowers drastically to the point that I can barely hear it. Even so the hostile tone cannot be overlooked.

"Because you killed someone Addison. Because you drove drunk. Because you cheated on me. I don't care pick one; but I am telling you that this is not the time or the place to be doing this so leave now."

I gaze at him silently. He stares back, equally silent, with contempt etched into his features.

"Why would you pay my bail if you felt like this?" I ask quietly, desperately searching for hope.

"Pay your bail? I wouldn't even accept a collect call from you. What makes you think I would pay your bail?"

"But you were the only one I called." I say shakily.

"Of course I am Addy." He looks at me with a sad smile on his face. "Maybe you should wonder why that is. Did you not want to call anyone else or do you not have anyone else to call?"

"That doesn't explain the paid bail." I say quietly trying to hide the tears that are now swimming in my eyes behind my closed eyelids.

"Plenty of people know you were being held in jail because of the accident. Any one of them could have paid your bail when they realized I meant to leave you there until you rot. Christ, Addy, even Mark knew you were in the accident. Why don't you ask him?"

He breaks through the circle of staff between the asian intern and a red-headed nurse who looks slightly familiar. Both give me a glare and a tight smile as the circle begins to disperse. But then, right before she passes in front of the family, the little nurse turns around on her heel, strides back towards me, and before I realize what she intends to do she slaps me across the left cheek.

"Bitch." the word leaves her mouth and rings in my ears as she walks away. I purposely keep my head lowered as I walk away from the family towards the opposite set of doors that lead out the back of the building. I close the doors behind me and a sob escapes me before I can even slide down them to sit on the uncomfortable cement steps. Oh God, what have I done? It's my fault. All my fault.

December 19th, 2005

8:10 p.m.

Isobel Stevens (Izzy)

They said it was beautiful. The ceremony of course. A lot of people showed up. Some had only me George in passing but he had that kind of effect. He was that kind of person. Sweet tempered and kind. George was, well, George. Alex and Olivia came to tell me practically verbatim what the pastor said a few hours ago. So I know it was a lovely service and I'm glad. George deserved it. Alex stared to mention something about a scene but Olivia shot him a nasty look. I wonder what it was all about. I'm just glad George's funeral was nice. He really did deserve it. I wish I could have gone. He was the sweetest guy I'll probably ever meet. He was so different from his brothers. They had that same sweetness but George had managed to somehow coat himself in it.

They came by this morning with their mum and dad, his brothers I mean. George's oldest brother, I can't really remember his name very well, sat in the corner of the room looking at the floor. He was quiet the entire time they were here and I know why. He thinks it is his fault. He is blaming himself for George's death. I wanted to reassure him. Tell him he's wrong but I didn't think it would be appropriate to bring it up in front of his family.

When I met Georg's dad and brother's back at Thanksgiving I could not figure out for the life of me where George had gotten his shyness from. I mean those men are the complete opposite of shy. This morning I found out the answer. His mom, Annabell O'Malley. She was os small, so delicate. I found myself surprised that none of her other sons hadn't broken her in their playfulness. And with the grief etched in her features she looked so fragile.

She had waited until the others had departed before dropping the bomb that tore me to pieces. That bit of one-sided conversation that still has me crying. She had merely leaned in, given me a hug, a letter for Meredith when she wakes up, and whispered her choice of farewell.

"It's so nice to meet the Izzy that George was always telling me about on the phone. He had always wanted a sister. I'm glad he found one in you. I have to go now. It was nice meeting you. I wish it had been under better circumstances."

And with that she had stood up and walked out the door. I had felt like throwing up. That's how strong the grief hit me. George had thought of me as his sister. And I killed him. Oh everyone says that it isn't my fault that it is the fault of the drunk driver who hit us that night but still, if I hadn't been so caught up in the holiday thing then I wouldn't have suggested taking the dog up to the hospital for the kids and if I hadn't suggested it we wouldn't have left the house and if we hadn't left the house then George would be alive and Meredith would be moping over McDreamy and everything would be okay.

I tried explaining that to Alex when he came to visit me the other day but he wouldn't listen. He got this funny look on his face and told me that no matter what I thought the accident was not my fault. Then he said something about fate and karma but I didn't really listen. I was too upset over George's death.

All those what if's kept running through my mind. What if we hadn't come back to the hospital? What if we had stayed a little longer or left a little earlier? But all the what if's in the world can't fix what happened. It was my idea. We were hit. Meredith's in a coma and George is dead. And it is all my fault. My fault.

Continued in Chapter 5. Meant to Be


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